My Little Bundle of Demise
by Shurikenx
Summary: Isn't it funny when an illusion dies? It's as though you've lost a child. -A spiralling descent of lust and red blood, in which Sasuke craves and Itachi provides. Afterall, that's what big brothers are for, right?- Uchihacest, Lemons
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hiya everyone, hope you're all well - and that you're not mad with me for not updating 'I Can't Dream Alone's final chapter! I promise it is underway and will be up soon, okay? I'm glad that you're all looking forward to it.

This story is written for my great friend Kakashizgirl, over on y!gallery. She requested something that involved an ItaSasu with plenty of smut, and also conveyed a vampire-style theme. Even if you don't like vampire fics, I urge you to read this one. You should be pleasently surprised to find it different to the others.

Warnings: Uchihacest. Shota. Lemons. Limes. Violence. Graphics/distubring imagery. 69-ing and other various forms of smut. (For this chapter in particular).

Enjoy! (Oh, and in this fanficiton, Madara Uchiha is the older brother of Fugaku -- Itachi and Sasuke's dad. This means that Madara is Itachi and Sasuke's uncle.)

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**Prologue**

As Madara approached the large door of the Uchiha mansion, the usual feelings of hatred, disgust and uncontrollable jealousy surged up his spine to lodge in his heart; sticking into every fibre of his being like a poisonous thorn. Within the walls before him, were the prides of his clan. _His_ clan.

His younger brother, Fugaku, had everything. The house, the beautiful wife, the money, the sons…

How come he, the eldest son – had ended up with nothing? He had no woman; not a girlfriend or a wife or even a friend to call his own. He didn't have Fugaku's lifestyle, his ideals. Whilst Fugaku grew into a honourable young man with wealth and high status, Madara was forced to live life in the shadows. Nobody wanted to know him; nobody wanted to even speak to him. And why? For what reason did people have to hate him, to regard him with such disgust?

He knew all too well why. The reason was constantly there, chewing away at the very inside of his mind with rows of little teeth – niggling his conscience. He was power hungry, and too much so.

He had only been seventeen when he had approached his brother Fugaku with the idea to change the clan for the good, but his sibling didn't see his plans as a good thing. Instead of a plan, he saw a plot to diminish the unworthy and the weak, leaving only the powerful and the strong. And although this was Madara's idea, he could only shake his head and refuse (albeit it politely) to help him.

Madara's fury of being denied to change (for the better of course) his own clan, had been feasting on the jealousy inside him ever since that day he had left home; not bearing to live in a corrupted clan that refused to be helped, to be _healed_.

But now, standing before the doors to Fugaku's household, he couldn't help but feel how far behind his sibling he actually was. It was childish to think… but he couldn't help it. It _was_ unfair.

He knocked, once, twice on the hard wooden door.

As he waited for the door to be opened to him, he let his mind wander to exactly why he had decided to pay his betraying-brother a visit. Fugaku didn't really deserve his company, not now after so many years… but Madara cast the thought aside. If he was intending to talk to Fugaku in a manner that would make his younger sibling listen, then his pride would have to be lowered considerably. He just hoped that his plan wouldn't simply be cast aside this time.

The door opened in one smooth, creak-free swing, but instead of greeting Fugaku's stern face in the doorway, Madara found his eyes being cast down slightly to meet those of a child in his early teens. Black hair spilled over his shoulders, loose from whatever ties that usually held it back. For a strange moment, Madara found himself looking at a younger version of himself. Then he blinked, and all who stood before him was the sibling of his brother.

'Itachi,' he said slowly, regarding the child with interest.

'Yes?' Came the quiet reply, the soft almost _fragile_ voice delightfully tickling Madara's ears. He took a step into the porch as the boy stepped aside to let him through. 'I'm here to see your father, Itachi. Is he in?'

Itachi hesitated slightly as his tall uncle stepped past him and into the large corridor of the house. The man emanated such presence in the way he moved, walked, just _appeared_. He wasn't a man that Itachi enjoyed being with. Yes, he was only a young teen, but he knew of the feud that was constantly _there_ between his father and his uncle. He had often overheard conversations between him and his mother about how Madara 'wasn't to be trusted around any of his family'.

'Madara? What are you doing here?' Fugaku entered the corridor, eyeing his older brother with slight discern. Itachi and Madara both turned to look at the sudden appearance of the man who had spoken.

'Fugaku, I'm here to talk to you,' he replied slowly, before he cast a side-glance at Itachi, leaning against the wall. 'Alone'.

Itachi immediately knew that he wasn't wanted in this conversation, and he excused himself, bowing firstly to Madara – whose eyes seemed to burn into the back of his lowered head - and then to his father with a mumble of 'going to the kitchen to get some breakfast'. Fugaku nodded in approval, and watched his oldest son walk silently out of sight, disappearing into the door on the right. It clicked shut, signalling to both siblings that now they were truly alone.

'So, Fugaku,' Madara began, outstretching his hands as if he were about to embrace his younger brother. 'Long time no see eh?'

Fugaku raised a hand and pushed Madara's arms away from him. 'Don't touch me,' he spat, his eyes narrowing as if in disgust at his brother's advances. 'And you can quit talking to me in that nostalgic way. Say what you need to say and then get out of my house. I don't want you here for any longer than necessary.'

Madara's playful smirk vanished almost instantly. Haughtily, he dropped his arms back to his sides and leaned up against the wall, folding his arms across his chest and examining his nails on one hand. He knew his casual act would drive Fugaku insane.

'That son of yours, Fugaku, Itachi is it? He reminds me of myself when I was young.'

Fugaku froze.

'Same looks, same stoic behaviour…how old is he? Probably no older than 12 I imagine…Ah, I was only a few years older than him when I was disowned by my family – by _you_.' His eyes narrowed dangerously as he sent daggers at his younger brother.

'I had a plan, Fugaku. Such a brilliant _plan_. Together we could have changed this clan for the better, erased any errors in our breeding and diminished any malfunctions –'

'You mean that people who weren't as intelligent, who were weaker than others were simple 'malfunctions'?!'

'Yes, Fugaku, that's _exactly_ what they are. Take your youngest son, for example. We all know that he won't be a strong fighter, brave like Itachi or handsome like you or I. He's an error in our clan, like so many others.'

'But he's a _baby_, you can't predict anything from them at such an age! How can you tell the future of someone not yet even an infant?'

'Easily,' Madara replied, examining the nails on his other hand. Somewhere in the back of mind, Fugaku realised that those long nails were painted black.

'You can tell from their eyes, Fugaku. Sasuke's eyes are dull, life-less – a mere grey amongst the power and strength of sharingan orbs. Itachi's eyes are bright; taking in every thing they see and _analysing_ it all. You can tell who will be a fighter, and who will be a failure from the moment they are born into this world. This pathetic, weak world.'

'You, you can't say things like that Madara… Sasuke and Itachi will be the pride of this clan. I can only hope that in time, their power and wisdom will overpower yours. You will cease to exist in this clan; your memory will soon be trodden into dust by my two sons.'

Madara's teeth gritted together tightly. No…'no…' He – he wouldn't be forgotten… 'I won't be… forgotten again… You can't do that Fugaku!!' He shouted in a fit of sudden rage.

'Itachi and Sasuke will be the finest shinobi in Konoha –'

'No!! They – '

'They'll be better than you or I could have ever been.'

'Stop this Fugaku! I will not be trodden into the dirt like some, some worthless maggot!'

'You will, Madara. You will cease to exist in this world, which is so much better, so much _stronger_ than you make it out to be. This clan is strength in itself. No matter how hard you try, you could never bring this clan to the ground.'

Madara stood, stunned by his brother's speech, said with so much conviction and power – It almost rocked him to the core.

'You know where the door is, Madara. See yourself out.'

And Fugaku vanished down the corridor and up the winding staircase, heading to tend to his wife and child who were upstairs. Sasuke had started crying after hearing the outburst of his relatives from the floor below, like any baby would do upon being disrupted from a peaceful sleep.

Madara fumed, his cheeks scarlet with undeniable hatred. How _dare_ his pathetic brother speak down to him like that?! _He_ was the elder one! _He_ was the one who should be shown respect!

Angrily, he spun on his heel ready to leave the cursed house that contained his wretched brother and his family. But, something stopped him. Some fleeting thought crossed his mind as he went to leave.

Itachi… Itachi was just through that door, right there on the right, the kitchen he said, didn't he? Yes, the kitchen. He glanced at the wooden staircase, as if checking for his brother's appearance.

Without hesitation, Madara pushed the sliding door to the kitchen open. At first, he was pleasantly surprised to see that the kitchen was plainly decorated, simple, neat, tidy. The floor was wooden, making his footsteps sound loud and powerful. He hadn't removed his shoes.

Itachi's back was to him as he sat silently at the island in the centre of the room. His black hair had been pulled into a loose ponytail, hanging limply down his back. He cradled an apple in his hands, rolling it from one to the other across the tabletop.

'You know, your father has quite a way with words, Itachi,' he muttered, choosing to ignore how the boy didn't even so much as notice his presence. The red apple continued to roll across the table.

'I couldn't even come up with a comeback… let my temper get the better of me…' He spoke quietly as he approached the boy at the table, as if he were almost talking to himself. 'My temper was always – has always been – my downfall. Your father refuses to listen, I get mad…' He gestured with his hands, although Itachi didn't turn to see it.

'One thing always leads to another.'

Slowly, Madara moved towards the boy; standing behind the lithe form seated on a high stool. With one hand, he reached out and placed his hand on the red fruit in mid-roll. He lifted it to his lips and took a satisfying bite, relishing in the acidic juice that dribbled down his throat. He swallowed.

'Taking bites from forbidden fruit…?' He muttered, leaning over Itachi so that his long bangs just touched the top of the teen's head.

With one smooth motion, he pushed the bitten apple to Itachi's red lips.

'Go on, Itachi,' he whispered, feeling the lips on the apple stay closed in denial. 'You know you want a taste of some… _power_, ne?' He spoke hotly into the boy's ear.

As if hesitant, Itachi's mouth opened around the apple. His teeth sunk into crisp, blood-red skin, taking a chunk of the apple between his lips.

Madara chuckled low in his throat, before leaning forward and running his thumb over Itachi's bottom lip. 'You're foolish, little Uchiha, to stay with this…' he trailed off, before slamming the hand still holding the apple onto the cherry wood of the table, dangerously close to Itachi's fingers.

The apple was crushed under such an impact; juice and pulpy flesh scattered across the tabletop.

'…this, _pathetic_ _family_.'

And he turned on his heel slamming the kitchen door behind him as he strode down the corridor. His hand was on the large oaken door's handle before he even knew he was leaving the Uchiha premises.

'Shit…' He mumbled fitfully under his breath, cursing the despised family that his brother had succeeded in having. But that boy…Itachi…

He could be warped. Twisted. Corrupted. Couldn't he? Madara only doubted it for a split second, thinking briefly that Itachi was just too smart to fall for any snide tricks of betrayal or deception. But maybe…just maybe his idea would work. He had been working on a plan (a jutsu more precisely) for the downfall of his brother's oh-so-perfect family for years now; ever since he had been sent away from his own home. It was a jutsu that needed a willing host – or, he thought to himself absently, a host that couldn't deny him, or fight against it.

The jutsu was one of a kind, special in all its own ways. It wasn't genjutsu – but was infact more like a virus or germ that infected the body of the host. It resulted in behaviour disorder, power hunger; and special traits that Madara hadn't intended it to have. If he could somehow get his jutsu into Itachi – then the boy would be helpless to obey him and follow his every whim.

But Itachi wasn't a reckless fool; he wouldn't fall victim to a jutsu that needed to be physically put into the person.

Rage boiled in his stomach.

Striding down the dusty path that curved between numerous old shop fronts and sparse foliage, one sound reached Madara's ears. It was a high pitched cry, one of a child a little over a few months old.

Sasuke, the youngest, innocent son of Fugaku, crying over the loudness of the door slamming moments before.

A wicked glint made its way into Madara's eyes, glistening like sharp pieces of ice catching the evening sun. His black hair whipped around his face, erasing the look of pure malice for the tiniest of moments.

He would be back that night, but not for Itachi.

For little, suffering, baby Sasuke.

- - - - - - xxx- - - - - -

The night was cold and fresh, making condensation form on the warm windowpanes of the house. Itachi's skin was breaking out in a cold sweat as he lay, entangled within his white bed sheets. His mind was whirling with thoughts of the day; Madara and his father's argument in the hallway… the way Madara had lightly caressed his hair almost lovingly, before forcing him to eat out of his hands, like a twisted pet.

There was something about the man that unnerved Itachi. Something about Madara made him unable to sleep at night – and he wasn't sure quite what that thing was.

Itachi raised his hands from his pillow and discarded the smothering duvets from his body; flinging them to one side to try and cool his skin. He felt itchy and hot and damp – but when a cold chill ran up the back of his neck, he knew instantly that it wasn't as simple as a bead of sweat.

His ears (for they were trained into listening for the slightest disturbance in the silent house) prickled at the small sound of a footstep, descending down the corridor.

Mother, he thought instantly. She was probably just checking on the baby in the room at the far end of the hallway… But her footsteps sounded different. They were heavier, larger, more intimidating as they crept through the house, almost stealthily.

Itachi's breathing quickened as he reached a hand under his pillow. His kunai was missing; he hadn't put it back in its hiding place after training…

He cursed himself silently.

And then the footsteps stopped, just outside his bedroom door.

He quickly turned onto his side, facing away from the door where someone was standing just behind it. He wanted to hide from this person, whose presence was so immense that it penetrated through the thin papery wall – but he had nowhere to go, and nothing to fight with.

As the door slid open with a gentle 'hushing sound, Itachi screwed his eyes shut and feigned sleep. Praying to himself that the person would leave.

The presence became stronger as the person approached his bedside in gentle, assuring strides, and Itachi's blood froze as a hand came up to stroke at his hair; combing it back as it lay fanned across the pillow. He didn't dare open his eyes.

There was a gentle creak on the floorboards as the person came impossibly closer; leaning over Itachi in the bed who was trying his very hardest not to let his chakra irregulate or his eyes to flicker. Hot breath washed over his face, before travelling down to the exposed nape of his neck.

Wet lips suckled gently, lovingly, at his skin – and Itachi's skin crawled with horror at the feel of such a thing. He needed to look, to stare at this intruder and attack – but he couldn't. He couldn't.

'I'm sorry, little Uchiha,' came a hard, cold voice whispering malice in his ear. 'I gave you the opportunity of leaving this family, but never will you act on your impulse. I know you would never do such a thing as leaving everyone here behind – but, they will eventually rot you to your core.'

The words were hushed and hot in his ear, before they stopped completely. The presence vanished.

Opening his eyes, Itachi spun over on his side in the bed. His skin burned, and the place where those lips had kissed him felt as if it would melt.

Madara.

It was Madara's voice in his head, Madara's lips on his ear and neck. Madara's promise of a rotting clan…

His uncle was in the silent house; creeping in the shadows and staying out of sight – but the house wasn't silent for long. A sudden piercing cry ricocheted down the corridor, and Itachi ran straight to its cause.

When he flung open the door to Sasuke's tiny bedroom, he was greeted with a terrifying sight. One that made his eyes burn in scarlet anger and horror.

Madara was holding the young baby around its waist, one hand digging into a plump little tummy whilst the other wrenched the soft wisps on hair to one side. His uncle's face was buried into the baby's neck, and with horrid realisation, Itachi noticed that Sasuke's neck was being bitten.

Bitten.

Blood was staining his Uncle's chin and mouth as he pulled away; Sasuke giving another wail of pain as white teeth withdrew from his tender neck, now just a bloody mess of chewed tissue and flesh.

'Y-You – What have you done to him?!' Itachi screamed, running up to Madara and pulling his little brother from the arms that clung to him.

'Ah, Itachi, I thought you were asleep. Little boys shouldn't be up at this hour,' Madara replied coolly, wiping the back of hand against his red lips as if he hadn't just emptied the little child of his blood.

'Don't joke!' Itachi spat back, cradling the limp form against his chest as he backed away from the man before him. 'What have you done?!''

'Oh hush Itachi, you're making out that what I've done is a bad thing,' he smiled. 'All I've done is… well…how do I put this… something to help me spur the downfall of this wretched clan.'

His words were calmly spoken, but hatred laced them like a fine poison. 'T-The clan…? This is what this is about?!' Itachi shouted in disbelief. The child in his arms lay as still as a doll. Broken.

'Why don't you take your hatred out on someone of power! Someone of status and nobility! This baby has done no harm to you and your ideals!'

Madara chuckled slowly, deep in his throat. The child's blood still coated the back of his mouth like a thick red wine. 'My jutsu needs a young, innocent host Itachi. Tainted blood tastes foul and bitter compared to the sweet, sweet blood of those who have yet to feel hatred or loathing. A baby was the perfect choice to implant my jutsu; and your precious family will suffer all the more for it.'

'Have you… killed him?'

Madara chuckled. 'No, no Itachi. I would never kill such a lovely baby.' Madara's red tongue licked over his upper lip. 'This child will not die, but will grow differently. He will act differently to those of his age. Hunger will consume and devour him until he helps me to erase the existence of his wretched family!'

Madara's smile broke out in an insane grin. Itachi couldn't help but notice the sharp white teeth that were slowly sinking back into the normal shape and size.

When Madara suddenly vanished from the room, Itachi broke out into near hysterics. 'Mom! MOM! Help – Sasuke is –'

He glanced down at the baby; expecting to see an unconscious mass of bleeding flesh – but he was proved wrong.

Sasuke's blood red eyes, ripened with the birth of a swirling sharingan, stared back at him, almost expectantly.

Madara's plan was taking effect already.

* * *

Prologue, part 2. 10 Years Later. (For plot convinience, Itachi is now 16, and Sasuke is 10.)

* * *

'Ne, Sasuke, come here.'

'No Itachi, please leave me tonight – it hurts and makes my skin itch…'

'I know it does, Otouto, but it has to be done. Let me do it.'

Sasuke released a small breath of defeat before climbing up onto Itachi's large bed, situated just under the window ledge. Moonlight shimmered in bands across the bed spread, before rippling onto the floor. He stopped on his knees in front of his brother.

Already his fingers were itching.

His black eyes rested on the silver thing, lying in Itachi's lap, occasionally catching the soft light. Shifting his restless gaze up to his brother, Sasuke tried to take the sight in. He and his brother were both in their pyjama tops and bottoms; Itachi's black top merged into the shadows around him as he sat cross-legged on top of the duvet. His hair hung loosely around his face, silky and cobwebby and spilling over his shoulders.

'Shall I do it now, Sasuke?' Came the smooth voice, laced with care and something that Sasuke assumed was love. He was only 10. He didn't know of such things at such a young age.

He nodded, watching with dreaded anticipation as his brother lifted the sharp silver thing in his lap with one hand, his other coming up to hold the boy's jaw.

'Open up,' Itachi said, easing the jaw apart before sliding his thumb between the parted lips. Moist, hot, pink.

Sasuke swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into that appendage, feeling his gums and white-bone teeth. He felt the thumb leave his lips with a wet pop, before he heard Itachi say: 'It's only the canines tonight, so it won't take as long.'

His own tongue ran across the offending teeth, and he wasn't surprised to find them sharp like razors against his flesh. They had grown up quickly. They always did.

'Open again.'

He did as he was told, opening his mouth wide enough so that the silver thing could push its way in; resting against his top and bottom teeth. He bit down on it in instinct. He needed to bite something, even if it was the rough metal.

Itachi didn't say anything as he pulled his hand roughly to one side, raking the metal file against the bone of unusually sharp teeth. The bone grated with a sound unlike any other, and Sasuke let out a sudden whine.

'Aaah – ' Was all he could manage to say as the file continued to grate away the sharp, sharp points of his canine teeth. It hurt. Oh Gods it hurt it hurt so much – and his eyes began to flicker behind his closed eyelids.

After one more pull of the file, Itachi quickly withdrew it from his brother's mouth before discarding it someone on the bed. It was lost in the darkness of bed linen and shadows.

Itachi pulled the little boy onto his lap; burying his own face in the crook of the child's soft neck. 'Oh Sasuke I'm sorry, so so sorry it hurts like that. If I could stop this I would, believe me…'

He muttered soft, hushed words into the warm flesh resting against his lips, not caring if his words were muffled. He needed to say them.

Sasuke trembled slightly in Itachi's strong (and yet they felt so fragile) arms. He didn't know why he had to let his brother file away his teeth – or even why they were so sharp in the first place. Itachi had told him, in hushed whispers as they had shared a bed like so many other nights, that he was special. A special child who needed some extra care and love, which only his aniki seemed to be able to provide for him. Itachi seemed to **know** Sasuke. He seemed to know why he hated the bright sunlight so much (for it made his eyes burn terribly and his skin all blotchy and red), why he found it so hard to eat things like fruit and vegetables, when all he could stomach was meat.

He hated the hunger, more than anything. Like an insatiable drive, the pure feeling of having to consume something raw and fleshy overwhelmed him constantly – especially in the times where he was feeling sad, worried or frightened. The feelings came on strong at those times.

He could still remember his mother's face; one of sheer horror and disgust, when she had found him digging with bare hands in the flowerbeds near the shaded area of the house, sucking the last pieces of chewed worms from between his bloodied teeth. He didn't (and still couldn't) understand why she had screamed, telling him to get indoors and stay locked in his bedroom until he could be a proper child.

/A proper child/

But he hadn't minded, not really. Those cold worms were like wet noodles, and weren't bloody enough to fulfil that need. They tasted like earth and damp and dirt and yuck, leaving a sour taste in his bile.

But Itachi understood.

Itachi was someone who would give him anything and everything – and the one thing that Sasuke needed most.

As he felt Itachi pull away from his warm embrace, their eyes clashed together in a gaze of uncertainty. Sasuke's head was already spinning from the pain in his teeth, and his stomach gave a sudden lurch.

Itachi understood instantly; lying down on his back with his head propped up on the white downy pillows. He gestured with his hand to Sasuke, sitting in the middle of the bed, to come over to him. Sasuke did so without question.

'Are you sure, aniki?' He asked in a small voice, weakened by fatigue. He crawled almost languidly over Itachi's outstretched body, until he was sitting gently on the firm tummy beneath him.

Itachi nodded, already tilting his head to one side and exposing the porcelain skin of his neck. It shone in the moonlight; a pale column of skin and flesh covering life's essence.

Sasuke's mouth began to water; his teeth and gums ached.

With tentative fingertips, he reached out and pressed lightly on Itachi's pulse, finding it just beneath the firm jaw. He was breathing hard as he leant in, letting pink lips rest (almost reassuringly it seemed) on the targeted spot. The blood would flow easily from this spot, Sasuke knew, and his eyes widened a little as he felt the healing wound – scabby – beneath his mouth.

They had done this before. Oh so many times.

Itachi's mouth parted as his baby brother crawled further up his body, so that he was straddling his chest, his lips now barely hovering over his neck. His fists clenched into the bed sheets as Sasuke's (still, they felt so sharp -) teeth nipped, pierced, **sank **into his skin.

A breathy moan of pain tore from his mouth, half buried in pillow as he faced to one side. The child's body felt heavy on his chest, and he suddenly felt so suffocated – asphyxiated –

'Nnnngh…' he panted through gritted teeth, feeling the sucking begin against his fresh wound. It tingled; the blood leaving his body felt strange and surreal and oddly…

Sensual.

But it always felt like that. For some strange reason, his younger siblings actions; the biting, the need to consume all, the hunger and the dead-look in the bright eyes always aroused Itachi. It was unusual and different, and he craved with an almost insane intensity to feel the soft flesh sitting atop his rapidly rising and falling chest.

Already, his hands were releasing the crumpled duvet and tangling themselves in Sasuke's black hair. He pulled gently on the locks, wanting to feel pressure and pain and immerse himself in them.

Sasuke moaned, feeling the sharp tugging on his scalp. His eyes closed in content as trickle after trickle of blood fell against his tongue; lapping it up like a kitten to milk. It was warm and heady – making his groin ache terribly at the idea that he was indeed taking his brother's blood, and swallowing it down whole.

His small hips gave a little lurch against Itachi's chest; already stimulating him with the rise and fall motion that pressed against him. His eyes rolled in his head; his mind spinning with pleasure of so many different things all at once.

'S-Sasuke, Sasuke stop a minute,' Itachi breathed, turning his head to dislodge the tiny teeth from his neck. He couldn't give Sasuke any more blood tonight. He knew which boundaries he could walk along, and the lines he couldn't cross.

But that didn't stop the actions that followed.

He placed a hand on each of Sasuke's shoulders, pushing the boy away from him as he struggled to sit up, leaning against the headboard behind him.

'Are you…' Sasuke began quietly, trying to figure out if his Niisan was okay. He didn't want to leave the warmth of his brother tonight. He wanted them to curl up and kiss each other until he was swallowed up by his brother's hot, wet, demanding mouth.

Itachi nodded. 'I'm fine,' he replied, and although Sasuke wanted to believe him, he couldn't help but notice how clouded his brother's dark eyes were.

'I just want to get you off, Sasuke,' he said, taking his brother's hand and squeezing it gently in his own. The boy's hand was hot and fiery – filled with fresh blood that surged through his vein and made his hormones reach all new highs.

His eyes glanced at the lump resting between Sasuke's legs.

'Get me off? Do you want me to leave then?' Sasuke whimpered, not wanting to leave at all. Itachi's low laugh met his ears. 'No, foolish little brother, I'm going to make you come; make you feel good inside.'

Sasuke's childish eyes widened. 'Oh,' he said quietly. '…Oh.'

Suddenly he knew what Itachi wanted, needed, expected of him – and he turned dutifully around so that he was still sitting astride his brother's chest, but now, was facing the end of the bed. His fluttering heart thump-thumped in his chest, making his rib cage ache.

The warm blood that still flooded his senses made him excited and, although he was too young to really know the word, aroused. Inexplicably so. Everything Itachi said or did made his head spin madly. He wanted to hear Itachi utter things, whispers in his head that could make him feel even more alive.

He whimpered, feeling his brother's fingers caress the skin under the back of his loose pyjama top, before they slipped under the hem of his shorts. One lone finger moved eagerly between the cheeks of his ass; so hot and soft and burning.

Itachi's mouth watered, and he found himself pulling the shorts off Sasuke's waist, leaving them to pool at the white ankles.

'Put your hands on either side of my hips,' Itachi whispered heatedly, feeling Sasuke comply and lean over until he was settled on all fours.

'That's it,' Itachi said, lifting his head to place a hot kiss on the small of the boy's back. 'Such a good boy…'

Sasuke nodded. Because he was. He wanted so desperately to be good for his aniki, who gave him blood when he wanted. He didn't know that what his brother was doing to him was wrong – because it felt right.

And Itachi was the perfect role model. If this was wrong, then Itachi wouldn't have been doing it in the first place, Sasuke reassured himself. There were many times when Itachi would touch him, kiss him – always being wary of his sore teeth and blood-stained gums.

He loved Itachi so much.

The finger between his cheeks found the small indent of his entrance, and he let out a sudden whine of desire to feel that finger deep within him; pushing against his insides hard enough to draw blood.

He wanted, craved, and needed it to hurt.

'Ah my little Sasuke, my baby brother…' Itachi was muttering nonsensical things, not even sure if the boy could hear him. 'You're very vocal tonight aren't you…?' He asked gently.

Sasuke let out a small whimper in reply.

'Yes yes, I know you are…' He answered his own question, exhaling onto the boy's flesh of his thighs that pressed so close to his face. The skin was white, almost eerily so – and Itachi could tell that the boy hadn't been outside in a few days.

Itachi's thumb joined the forefinger that leisurely stroked over the tiny entrance; already pink and damp with sweat. The muscles in Sasuke's back trembled as the two fingers were removed slowly. He opened his mouth to protest; but only a hoarse moan spilled from his blood-coated mouth, as Itachi's face suddenly pressed up close to his behind.

Itachi curled his tongue a little; pressing the very point of it against the orifice – still tight from the lack of stretching. Itachi liked it like that, and he knew that Sasuke enjoyed it too.

'Does that feel good, Sasuke?' he asked tauntingly, withdrawing his tongue to allow him to speak. Sasuke's head flopped forward; his hands fisting the sheets as he panted out a breathy: 'Yes 'niki… feels so good…'

His eyes rolled again in pleasure as that hot muscle forced its way inside him; licking and tasting him as if the older sibling planned to devour him whole. Sasuke found himself thinking on how he wouldn't mind Itachi eating him up, so that he could settle and sleep in the warmth of the Uchiha's stomach.

The tongue in his ass twisted; stimulating his insides and making his back arch downwards – pushing him up and onto that tongue further, deeper. Saliva fell from his laps and down to his chin, not clear, but stained a faint pink.

'Itachiiii…' He moaned, feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. 'It feels… feels so –' He shuddered, not able to finish his sentence.

'Ne, Sasuke-chan,' Itachi said gently, pulling his tongue away from the boy's entrance and settling for running his finger along the swollen hole instead. 'Can you do something for your aniki?'

Sasuke nodded, screwing his eyes painfully shut as the fingers returned to prod and poke at his ass. 'Hai,' he said simply, agreeing to succumb to his brother's every whim.

'Pull down my pyjamas for me, and then do what I showed you the other night, okay?'

Even as he asked it, Sasuke's fingers were already hurriedly tugging away the loose material around Itachi's cock; hard and hot and erect just for him. It made his heart swell in his chest to think that only he could make Itachi like this.

Following his brother's instructions, Sasuke slowly opened his bleeding mouth and placed it oh-so-gently around the erection before him; sucking and suckling at the very tip. Something was leaking onto his tongue, something pale and salty that mingled with the blood still around his gums.

Itachi groaned in approval as his little sibling worked his mouth almost feverishly around his aching member. It felt good. So, so good – and he quickly pushed his tongue back inside the trembling entrance of Sasuke's ass.

Sasuke's moans and muttered cries resounded around the flesh in his mouth; in turn making Itachi whine in delight, an action which caused tiny vibrations to climb up his arched spine.

They continued sucking, licking and swallowing around the flesh in both of their mouths until the other was just a writhing mass of sweaty skin and frayed nerves. Sasuke thought he was going to die if he couldn't escape this wheel of pleasure – and he cried out suddenly as Itachi's forefinger plunged in deep alongside the wet tongue. The dual stimulation was enough to make him come hard; and although he was too young to release anything, his thighs and arms trembled with strain as his orgasm racked his body from head to toe.

Itachi's tongue and fingers were suddenly squeezed hard between contracting muscles, and he too came quickly into his baby brother's wet mouth; eager to drink all that passed lips.

If there was one other thing that satisfied his crave for raw flesh, blood or meat – then it was the white liquid Itachi allowed him to swallow. It was salty, but it slipped easily down his throat and settled warmly in his satiated stomach, so full and rich with both blood and come.

Sasuke was vaguely aware of Itachi pulling him up off his lap, and turning him around to lie against him; chest to heaving chest. Itachi's fingers (that had just been in his ass, Sasuke thought…) combed through his sweaty hair, and his wet lips kissed him gently on his damp forehead.

'Sleep now Otouto,' came the hushed whisper breathed into his ear, and Sasuke could only nod in exhaustion. His tummy felt hot and ripe, and his mouth was still dripping with come and blood. Itachi gently licked it all away.

'My little baby brother…'

And together they fell asleep in each others tight embrace, with Itachi only waking once in the night to find the small child sucking contently on the pulse in his neck.

He smiled, before slipping into the realms of dreams once again.

--Tbc...--

Review and let me know what you think of it so far, okay?


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Here's part 2 of My Little Bundle of Demise. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who is waiting for the last chapter of I Can't Dream Alone. I had an ending, had written it, and then quickly deleted it because to be quite honest, it wasn't good. I want a good ending for that story, but it will be a while until I can write it out again. Sorry guys! Still, enjoy this part!_

**WARNING: Graphic incest and shota.**

* * *

_  
_Itachi's sleep-filled eyes fluttered open, briefly surveying the small scene beside him.

Sasuke was sleeping on his side; his tiny lips still sucking gently with a little rhythm on the exposed side of Itachi's neck. Shifting a little, Itachi carefully prised the suction of pink lips from his skin, not at all surprised when he saw the blueish-purple bruise the mouth had left behind. Almost immediately after Sasuke had been pushed away, his forehead creased lightly and a harsh pant left his reddened lips. His hands fisted and then relaxed; making tiny little grabbing motions as he slipped closer to Itachi's (so warm) body beside him.

He always hated mornings; finding it so difficult to wake up properly and actually feel awake. His mind was numb after waking up – and he only seemed to resurface from the lull in the evenings. A small whimper left his parted lips, wanting so badly to fix themselves onto that spot of his big brother's neck. But he couldn't. Itachi's hands were pushing down on his own; effectively pinning him to the bed sheets under the duvet. His teeth ached, and his eyes flickered open.

'Itachiiii…' he whimpered, trying to wriggle out of the hold his brother had on him. 'Please let me go! I wanna sleep…'

'You can't go back to sleep, Sasuke, or else you'll be up all night. We're trying to get your sleep patterns to regulate, you know that already,' Itachi said gently, releasing one of his hands holding the boy down so that he could run his fingers through the spiky hair. It was so soft between his fingertips. As black as night.

Itachi smiled as Sasuke nodded in reply, and his eyes were drawn to the nasty scar on the little neck underneath him. It had healed rather well considering the damage caused; similar to a burn, the skin had grown quickly (too quickly Itachi had thought) but had left a shiny film of pink flesh exposed. Two holes, like puncture wounds, although Itachi knew better – scarred the area just below the boy's right ear.

Sasuke had no idea what they were. Mikoto and Fugaku had refused to let on to anyone.

Maybe that was the right thing to do.

Maybe not.

Itachi leaned down and carefully kissed the ruined skin of Sasuke's neck, leaving hot wet kisses behind his lips. Almost immediately he felt Sasuke tense up on the bed, his little body went rigid and goose pimples formed on the flesh of his arms. For some reason Sasuke found this… pleasurable. He wasn't sure why – but there was something in the way that Itachi's teeth _just barely_ scratched his skin, something in the way that that hot mouth descended on his flesh and _sucked_.

Something about it all felt so very very right. Natural, almost.

'Nngh, Itachi – y-you're making me hungry,' he whispered out, not wanting to disrupt this loving display of tenderness, but at the same time knowing that if Itachi carried this on for too long he wouldn't be able to hold back with his hunger.

It drove him. Fuelled him.

Itachi's mouth pulled away slowly, before he muttered a brief: 'I'm sorry,' to the flushed boy beneath him. 'How about we go get something to eat?' He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 'It's gone breakfast time.'

Sasuke nodded, lifting his arms up high and wrapping them around his brother's neck in an embrace. His legs quickly clung to Itachi's hips as the teen stood up fully; his strong arms coming up to securely wrap around the child's bottom. They were both dressed in their pyjamas still; Itachi having dressed himself in the very early hours of the morning, and Sasuke wearing a far-too-big t-shirt that reached down to his knees.

As they walked slowly down the stairs, Itachi found himself thinking on how light and fragile Sasuke felt in his arms. For a boy of 10 years old, he weighed hardly anything. The slightest breeze seemed like it had the strength to blow the child away; as if he were nothing more than a crisp leaf in an autumn wind.

'What are you hungry for?' Itachi said gently, as he walked into the brightly lit kitchen, depositing a pouting Sasuke on the surface of one the cabinets.

He approached the fridge and the white door swung open. Itachi peered inside.

'Looks like we have some yoghurt…some milk… and some of those nice fruit juices you like. Anything there sound good?'

He looked over his shoulder at the boy a few feet away from him; perched on the edge of the preparation top. The big shirt must have been one of Itachi's – as it slid effortlessly off one bone-white shoulder. Itachi's sharp eyes picked up on the fine tracery of blue veins beneath the skin.

Sasuke shook his head. 'No… I don't want any of that, aniki. I want…' he paused, hopping off the cabinet and joining his brother by the fridge. He gazed inside at the array of food; cheeses, fruits, vegetables – all things that made his mouth taste nasty and dry. He looked in a little bit further, and there on the bottom shelf was what he wanted.

'I want some of this 'niki,' he whispered excitedly, pointing a small forefinger at a plastic-wrapped package, stained red.

Itachi bit his lip as he reached in and pulled out the packet of raw mincemeat. He looked at his baby-brother, and then back at the pink, squishy meal. 'You really want this, Sasuke?' He asked, unsure of whether he should be giving into his sibling quite so easily. He should have known that Sasuke would want something raw, something bloody.

Sasuke nodded quickly. 'Yes, yes please Itachi. I want some of it – not all, just a handful. Please?'

Itachi narrowed his eyes.

'Oh please Itachi!' Sasuke whimpered, clinging to his niisan's leg and burying his head in the crook of his hip. 'Please, I'm so hungry and I can't stand feeling like this… the meat will help. I know it will.'

Itachi sighed, before he placed the bloody meat on the side; closing the fridge door. Sasuke squealed excitedly.

'I know it will aswell,' he said gently, combing a hand through the black locks. Sasuke purred at the touch; arching his head into that nice caress.

'But you mustn't tell Mother or Father, okay? No-one has to know about this; especially as you're meant to be eating norm- I mean, cereal and things.' Itachi said slowly, before he released the boy's head in order to grab a knife from the kitchen drawer. He cut away the plastic wrapping with one quick flick of his wrist.

Sasuke began to breathe hard through his mouth; hands still clutching into the fabric of Itachi's trousers. He was so hungry, the thought of letting all that raw meat tear between his teeth was beginning to make him feel dizzy. He loved Itachi allowing him to eat things like this. It was so much better than having to go and eat worms in the garden. It always took so long for the taste of soil to leave his tongue.

'Here you go,' Itachi said, cutting away a large slice of mincemeat and putting it onto a plate. He offered it to the boy's grabbing hands; already swiping at the food and plunging his little fingers into his mouth.

'Sasuke! Use the…' _plate_. He didn't bother to finish his sentence. All the raw, bleeding meat had already been chewed and swallowed down by the feverish boy, who stood before him with his hands covered in mincemeat and blood. Some of it oozed from the corner of his tiny mouth. He smiled, and Itachi couldn't help but notice the fleshy bits still clinging to Sasuke's pearly teeth.

'Thank you Niisan! Thank you so much,' Sasuke grinned, already feeling the life coming back to his head, his eyes. He needed that food to help him wake up and _be_.

'That's…okay,' Itachi replied, already pushing his fingers deep into the child's blue-black hair. He just loved how it ran through his palms and the creases where his fingers met; it was something he couldn't help but touch. His eyes were drawn down to his little brother's pink lips; stained by his bloody breakfast. His open lips parted as he spoke in an ushered voice:

'Did it taste nice…?'

Sasuke nodded furiously. 'Mmhm, it was nice and cold.' His tiny mouth began to water as his tongue flicked over his gums and teeth; collecting the last juices and pieces of stray food stuck between them. He watched as Itachi knelt down to his level; his eyes never leaving his reddened lips.

'Did it taste as nice as aniki…?'

Sasuke smiled and wrapped his arms around his brother; burying his face into the nape of his neck and breathed – knowing how his brother shivered at the contact.

'No,' he whispered in reply, suddenly feeling so overwhelmed with love and desire for his older sibling that his heart felt as though it would burst. He barely felt the hand gripping the back of his hair, pulling him away slightly so that their eyes clashed together.

'Can I taste _you_?' But Itachi was already leaning in as he spoke. Their lips met in a wet kiss; Itachi's mouth opening to taste the hot insides of Sasuke's mouth, rich and ripe with blood. It tasted… strange, but he brushed the thought to one side. His baby brother always tasted so delicate and fragile, with the heady red liquid making him like an intoxication.

'Nngh,' Sasuke moaned as Itachi's teeth bit hard at his bottom lip; making him whimper deliciously into his mouth, so demanding and wet.

Itachi pulled away to take in a deep breath; forcefully exhaling onto Sasuke's flushed face. The boy was so hot. Melting. 'God Sasuke,' he muttered, twisting a piece of the black bangs between his thumb and forefinger. 'The things you make me feel for you…'

Sasuke smiled sheepishly, scuffing his toe on the kitchen floor. Itachi always managed to make him feel so loved, so cared for – a feeling that he had never felt around his mother or father, although they may have tried to pretend that they did. Ever since he could remember, there was just Itachi. Just his big brother to look after him.

'Love you aniki,' he smiled, watching as Itachi's eyes lit up at the words. They always did.

'That's good then, ne? Because aniki loves his Otouto too,' he replied, running a finger down Sasuke's cold cheekbone which stood rather prominently on his baby face. 'Now go on, I've got some work to do today,' he said, playfully reaching around Sasuke's body in order to slap his behind. He squeaked in reply:

'B-But Itachi, can you not stay with me today? I…I get bored when you're not here.'

'No, Sasuke. You'll have to keep yourself entertained today, okay? There are some new crayons and things in the cupboard by the TV. Do some drawing for a while.'

'But –' He was interrupted by another gentle slap; the cruel hand slipping up under his loose t-shirt and rubbing at his thighs and bottom.

'Come on, if I have time later in the afternoon to come and play with you, then I will.'

Sasuke's eyes widened. 'Really?' He asked in mild surprise. 'You promise?'

Itachi paused.

'…I promise.'

--xx -- xx--

Sasuke paused, his back aching, as he lay sprawled out on his bedroom floor. His crayola hovered over his page, scrawled on.

He loved the red crayola; loved the way it slid and grinded against the paper that he had laid out on the wooden floor. The colour was as deep as blood, as rich as a flame. He pressed the crayon back to paper, staining it with the red scribbles of a child's imagination.

Itachi should've been back by now, he thought to himself, as he began drawing a new picture of his big brother, his idol – all in a wash of crimson.

It was late… Mother and father had both gone to bed to watch some TV, after peering in on their youngest son who could only wince as the door opened, letting artificial lamp light in. They didn't say goodnight to him, only nodded their approval that he was doing something… creative.  
Sasuke caught their feelings as they closed the door to his bedroom, leaving him alone with his crayola and his drawings. There was brief snippets of _oh god, why can't he be like Itachi…_ and little passing thoughts of - _boy…so young and yet he acts like it – can't believe he isn't becoming a ninja yet…_

Sasuke shook his head to dislodge them from his ears. He didn't want to listen to them, not now.

He focused in on his picture of Itachi. He quickly drew in the sharingan swirly-scary eyes, the fine nose, the subtle but definitely there lips. His crayon coloured in a short-sleeved t-shirt, a pair of trousers and some sandals.

He smiled, looking down at his creation. All he needed was some hair –

His crayon pressed onto the paper as he began with the long locks. He did it gently, firmly, with utmost care.

And then he heard those horrible thoughts again in his head. The thoughts of his mother. _Oh Sasuke where oh where did my baby go? What have you done to him? My poor, poor little child – he's getting too close to him, maybe he should have a friend. Some time away from Itachi would do him good, surely, surely –_

Sasuke's breathing quickened and his stomach churned. His hunger was kicking in.

And then he looked down at what he had drawn and he cried out in shock, dropping the crayon and scuttling away from the drawing.

It wasn't Itachi, there, on the white paper. He had drawn spiked hair at the back; very similar to his own, but with very lengthy bangs. It was neither him nor Itachi, and yet Sasuke knew this person. He just didn't know how – or why.

_Whoareyouohforgod'ssakeWHOAREYOU?_

Hugging his knees to his chest, Sasuke couldn't help but feel just a little… afraid. The person on the paper had big, scary eyes and strange hair – and – and…

His small hands grappled at the floor as he quickly sprang to his feet, turning off the light, jumping into bed, and pulling the duvet up over his fragile body. His face buried itself in the white downy pillows; wanting nothing more than to be immersed in them. Suffocated. Almost.

He sighed, whimpering slightly as he turned onto his belly. He felt so cold, and so so hungry…

Turning his face away from his pillow, appearing so white in the darkness of his bedroom, his eyes adjusted to the sudden relief of pressure. His gaze, blurred already from fatigue and worry, landed on the exposed skin of his right wrist. Just as white, maybe even more so, than his bedspread.

Itachi had told him not to do this. He promised him that he wouldn't, because Itachi worried about him. He loved him.

But that didn't really matter, not when he was so hungry… that his mind was concentrating on absolutely nothing else.

His mouth watered, his tongue already flicking over his front canines. They had sharpened slightly since the previous night where Itachi had filed them away… How did they manage to grow so fast?

'Sorry, big brother,' he muttered lowly, letting his lips clamp down hard onto his thin wrist. He sucked hard, harder, harder still – before his teeth sank into the taught skin, piercing it with two rough puncture marks like snake bites.

Blood trickled out in a hot wet stream, coating his tongue and gums. He whimpered lightly at the pain, but it quickly turned into a gentle reeling of pleasure as his eyes slid contently shut.

His lips automatically suckled at the two pin-prick holes in his wrist, throbbing, pulsing, bleeding. God, it tasted so good, so perfect. It satisfied any hunger he had had previously, and all thoughts on the Man in the Drawing melted under such a heavy taste, flooding his senses that seemed so sharp.

It was only as he fell asleep that his lips fell from his wrist, leaving a tiny dribble of pinkish blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

- - - xx - - -

'Sasuke? Sasuke? You awake?'

Sasuke whimpered, hands clawing at the pillow as he felt a large body sink into the bed beside him. Ah, such a warm presence…He pressed his back fitfully against the warm body beside him.

'Hey, Sasuke, it's me,' came the hot voice, whispering in his ear. He wriggled on his side.

'Itachi? You're…late,' he muttered sleepily, bringing up his tiny hands to rub at his sore eyes. They had been hurting a lot recently. He didn't know why.

'I know, and I'm sorry,' Itachi replied, cuddling up to his little sibling and burying his face in the soft black hair. 'I was held back after a mission for a meeting. I couldn't get away.'

Sasuke closed his eyes, understanding perfectly. Itachi was a great fighter, warrior, shinobi – and was always summoned to meetings and things. But, it was only ever Sasuke who he returned to at the end of a long, tiring day.

'I'm here now though, ne?' Itachi said, his breath stirring Sasuke's hair. His strong fingers were gracing the child's fragile, scarred neck.

Sasuke nodded. 'What time is it 'niki? Late?'

Itachi turned to glance at the clock on the bedside table, muttering a brief 'yeah' as the numbers flashed 2: 30am. He shifted in bed, moving to get out of it.

'I should get going. You need your sleep.'

'B-But I'm wide awake now! Please stay with me Itachi. Please.' He asked, clutching onto Itachi's shirt with his fists.

It was those fists that Itachi couldn't help but to look down on; stopping his leave. Sasuke's wrist was dotted with pin-prick holes, as though he had punctured the skin with his… his… 'Oh god Sasuke, why have you done this?' He said, shaking the hands away from his top with one rough stroke. The boy flinched away. 'Why did you go and bite yourself? Couldn't you have _waited_?' His voice was rough, angry, frustrated.

'I – I didn't mean to, Itachi, honestly I didn't – I was just, just…'

Itachi waited for an answer. His eyes, for they were now almost glowing red with anger, drove a stare deep into Sasuke's own.

'I was hungry,' he said softly, as if embarrassed.

'And you couldn't have waited for me? Couldn't have stopped yourself?' Itachi muttered, reaching out to grab that tender forearm again. He ran his thumb over the bite wound, pushing down hard so that he could feel the boy's trembling, fluttering pulse.

'If you do this, you'll drain yourself of energy. We've already realised that, haven't we.'

Sasuke nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from Itachi's gaze. He felt so naked before his older brother, so exposed and stripped and bare.

'You mustn't bite yourself anymore. Gods, Sasuke, we'll end up taking one step forward and two steps back if you continue! You have to wait and draw out your emotions, your…' He paused. It was the hunger, that horrific hunger which consumed the boy, the child, and made him desire blood.

It scared Itachi. All he wanted was for Sasuke to be a normal little brother, but the truth was that he just wasn't. That scared Itachi more than anything.

And then he was gripping Sasuke by the neck, pulling him towards him as he towered above him on the bed sheets. Sasuke's whines of pain and discomfort didn't quite reach his ears. If Sasuke were normal, he would fight this. If he were normal, he wouldn't want his brother to do things like this to him.

'_Why_ did you bite yourself?' He asked, not anticipating or even expecting the answer he was about to get.

'I was frightened…I did a…a drawing Itachi – and at first I was drawing you but it turned into someone else and I don't know who he is or how I even know him but he was _there_ and for some reason he looks so famil–'

'Stop!' Itachi said, releasing the child's neck as he stared wide-eyed down at his sibling. Never had he seen Sasuke act like that before, so panicky and fearful.

'Where is the drawing?'

Sasuke pushed himself up off the bed and pointed with a shaking finger towards the floor. He watched in anticipation as Itachi stood up, reached down, grabbed a fine sheet of paper and stared at it with red eyes.

'Who is this Sasuke?'

'I…I-I don't know…' he replied meekly, grabbing the duvets with his tiny fists and holding them tight. He looked away when Itachi glanced at him, unable to hold the stare in those dark, dark eyes.

For a moment, Itachi wondered if his glare would burn the paper that he held in his hand. No doubt about it, he knew exactly who this drawing was of.

Madara.

That sly, backstabbing treacherous uncle of his… the man who had spent years perfecting a jutsu that he had implanted into Sasuke; a willing host.

So why, no, _how_ could Sasuke have drawn him so accurately? Right from the long hair to the red eyes, coloured in by childish hands. Was this another effect of the jutsu? For Madara's image to already be burnt into those young eyes, that young naive mind?

Itachi's grip on the paper tightened, and it crumpled helplessly in his grasp. He tossed it to one side, into the furthest shadows of the room where it lay silent.

'I don't want you to think about that person in your drawing anymore.' Itachi said as he walked slowly over to sit again on the mattress. Sasuke's body dipped slightly towards him with the extra weight.

'Okay Niisan…' he replied, fists loosening on the duvet's edge in order to clutch onto his brother. He snuggled his face into crook of Itachi's neck and mouthed the skin, not biting, just letting his lips caress and _taste_ the warm flesh. His tongue slipped out from between his lips and licked at Itachi's neck, like a kitten lapping at warm milk.

Itachi sighed, wrapping his hands around Sasuke's fragile body as the child sucked at his skin. It was times like this when Itachi didn't mind Sasuke's odd behaviour or strange words. He relaxed completely under the ministrations of his little brother, not finding it unusual that they were committing incest. If anything was unusual, Itachi reminded himself, then it was the fact that things felt completely right. Like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, they matched each other in more ways than one.

'Help me forget that man, Itachi,' muttered Sasuke, finding the soft junction between ear and neck which he buried his mouth into. He sucked almost desperately, wanting nothing more than to drink the blood from his brother's pulsing neck.

'…Okay,' Itachi replied gently, running a hand through the child's hair and guiding his feverish lips onto his pulse. Sasuke let out a whimper of excitement as his front teeth met tough skin, and he gave a gentle sigh as he eagerly bit down, grinding his jaws hard in order to penetrate the flesh with his blunt teeth. Itachi flinched beneath him, and his eyes rolled back in pain as it seared through him, hot and white and _scorching –_

'Suck it,' he pleaded breathlessly, knowing that only Sasuke's lips could take away that horrific burning sensation. 'Oh gods Sasuke suck it – '

And Sasuke could only whine in delight, matching his brother's moans as he slowly sucked the dark blood away from the raw wound he had made. It was a sloppy bite; the tissue was torn from his chewing and blood flowed rich like gold from his split veins. Egged on by Itachi, Sasuke soothed the bite marks with long, flat-tongued licks.

His stomach was feeling very full, his mind very much satiated by the time he pulled away. He sat on his heels between Itachi's legs, looking down at the heaving chest of his brother as he lay there, head turned to one side to expose his sore neck. His long hair stuck in tendrils around his forehead and face, whilst some of it sprawled across the pillow like black spider webs.

Sasuke glanced down at Itachi's abdomen, noticing the liquid that covered his tummy in large white drops. He hadn't realised that Itachi had come already. It surprised him; his brother must've been really enjoying their biting session tonight to have come so quickly. Sasuke couldn't help but smile, feeling a little thrilled at the idea of him pleasing Itachi so much.

He laid himself beside Itachi's waist, one hand hugging him tightly whilst the other swept through the cooling semen, splattered on his brother's skin. He plunged his fingers into his mouth quickly, greedily, savouring the taste of Itachi on his very fingertips. A moan escaped his lips as he flicked his tongue over them, collecting any dribbles of blood or saliva. It all tasted so good. So _good._

For three years after that night, Sasuke no longer thought of the man in the drawing with the long hair and the scarlet eyes. He didn't draw him, didn't think of him, and didn't see his image anywhere. Things were still not normal, but things were good. They felt it, they seemed it, and even Itachi agreed that things were going well. Almost every night the brothers found themselves awaking in a mess of limbs and bedsheets, smelling of hot arousal. The underlying scent of blood was only apparent to Sasuke, staining his lips and chin.

Days and nights went past, and things were good.

Until Itachi struck him hard across the cheek with the back of his hand. Hard enough to leave a scarlet rose blossom into a bruise on his cheek, bringing blood to the surface.

Running into the nearby forest to escape his brother, was without a doubt, the worst mistake of Sasuke's life.

--TBC--

_/reasons for Itachi slapping Sasuke are going to be evident in the next chapter. ;3/_

A/N: By the way, does anyone here like Gackt? I've just been listening to his music, and wow, he's AMAZING. Whilst reading this story, (My Little Bundle of Demise) I suggest that you listen to his song, 'Returner'. It's beautiful.

Review!


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